


The Other Side: Part Fifteen

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring Dean, F/M, Hot Tub, Vaginismus, vulvodynia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 03:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12004449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Dean and Carrie fight and Carrie finally spills her feelings for Dean.





	The Other Side: Part Fifteen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Domino Darkwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Domino+Darkwolf).



 

 

 

The door startled Carrie awake and Dean edged in quietly.

"Hey," he said softly. He had a small bouquet of daisies and baby's breath wrapped in cellophane.

Carrie rubbed her eyes. "did you bring me flowers?"

He flushed a little, waved them awkwardly in his one hand. He cleared his throat. "They were at the Gas and Sip a couple of miles down the road."

She wiped her eyes, unsure what to think.

He took a bottle out of his jacket pocket and rattled it. "Got you some aspirin." He tossed it at her.

Carrie blocked her face with her arm and it bounced off of her shoulder and onto the mattress beside her.

He looked taken aback. "You're supposed to catch that."

"Sorry." She said. "I'm not much of a catcher, I guess."

Carrie reached for the bottle and stood up. It rattled in her hand, pills against plastic, loud in the silence.

Dean set the flowers down on the counter and moved to help her.

"Dean, I can walk." She said as he offered her his arm. She moved away from his touch, trying to get her bearings about her. Unsure what she was even feeling emotionally. She wandered to the mini fridge and grabbed a soda to wash down the aspirin. "I'm just sore. It's like a bad period. I'll live." She tore the plastic seal and pulled out the cotton to get to the medication. Carrie looked at the flowers lying alone on the counter and smiled. They were pathetic but the gesture was very cute. She washed down an aspirin and reached to he pick them up. "I don't have a vase out here."

Dean ducked into the cabinet and produced an empty water pitcher. "Here." He filled it with sink water and set it down.

Carrie laughed, still feeling congested from crying and unwrapped the flowers. She set them in.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what I was thinking. Just seemed like somethin to grab at the time...Come here, sweetheart." He took her hand and led her to the door.

"Dean," she protested, following him out gingerly half-naked with no shoes. "I'm not dressed to go hiking." She had to pause from how sore she was. Her body was really angry at her for some reason. She stepped out to their fire pit which he had going again, crackling warmly, it's embers in the dimness and there was a big water trough near it that hadn't been there before.

She raised an eyebrow. "You dragged the water trough over here?"

He shrugged. "Well now it's cleaned out and it's a makeshift bath not a trough."

"What?" She stepped closer and saw that it had been scrubbed fairly clean. It was filled with water that was gently steaming. He pulled her over to him wordlessly and pulled her t shirt over her head. He tossed it on one of their chairs and she stood nude in the dim light, except for her panties.

Dean dipped his fingers in to test the water.

Carrie looked at him confused.

"Warm water helps cramps and sore muscles, right?" He asked.

She nodded.

"Yeah. Well." He said, "We don't have a nice bath all the way out here. So now you can soak."

Her hand went to her mouth.

"What?" He asked, suddenly worried.

She shook her head swallowed the lump. "You did all this work for me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I boiled a bunch of water and dumped it in. I deserve a medal."

"Come on." He tugged her little silken panties down and she stepped out of them. He helped her balance as she stepped into the trough and lowered herself in. Carrie's eyes rolled into the back of her head. It was so warm and welcome and deep, up to her shoulders.

Carrie settled into the water to soak. The warmth felt fantastic on her muscles. The water was up to her collarbone, still steaming a little in the cool night air. The fireglow reflected off of the surface of the slightly bobbing waves.

Dean had started to shuck off his clothes.

She turned her head to watch his pale body in the moonlight. So freaking gorgeous. All taut muscles. Broad shoulders. Bow legs. Even his ass was rounded and firm.

He walked over to the trough and stepped in behind her. "Scooch forward, baby."

She did and he lowered himself down, his long legs on either side of her hips as she sat.

The water rose a fraction, displaced by his body mass. She stayed forward until he settled in and then he pulled her back, settling her against his bare chest. She reclined against him and his arm went around her. He brushed her blonde hair off her neck, then off her cheek. "This feel good he asked?"

"Yes." She whispered.

His hand lowered over her breast and kept sliding down until he paused and held it lightly over her cramping uterus. He settled it there, palm against her belly, almost protective in his concern.

He nuzzled her hair and kissed her ear.

"It's not going to be much of a dirty weekend," she said. "I'm so sore I don't know if I can do anything, Dean."

"Don't you worry about that." He moved his thumb over her belly in a stroking motion. "Just relax." He said smoothly.

She loved the feeling of being enveloped by him. It was quiet except for the lapping of the water and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. She let herself settle into his arms and tried to forget about the pain. She had relaxed into him but she could feel the slight hardness of a rising erection. Carrie shifted wordlessly. "Dean, I cant."

"Honey, just because he's interested doesn't mean we have to act on it. Ignore him." Dean replied.

She laughed and rested her hands on his knees, they were slightly bent and almost risen out of the water.

"He is an attention whore." She giggled.

Dean snorted. "Yes." His nose bumped against the side of her head. "He likes attention. He really likes to be petted."

"And choked."

"Yeah that too." She could hear the smile in his voice.

She paused, really wanting to ask him if he'd keep returning if her body was broken and she couldn't offer him sex. The thought made her feel uneasy.

Dean clearly wasn't on the same page mentally. He remained relaxed and gentle behind her, his hand still lazily massaging her belly.

"Man, I need one of these on the road with me. This feels good." He draped one muscled arm over the side of the trough.

"There's this thing called a tub," she replied.

"At the dives we stay at I'd be scared to sit down in one. Plus they're not even big enough to sit in. I have to fold in half."

The water plashed softly as he shifted his weight.

"I'm short so I have no such problems." Dean snorted. "I can just see my brother walking in as I'm in a bubble bath."

"Therapeutic is therapeutic. Sam would understand." Carrie said, rubbing his exposed knee. She noted a bruise there, ghosted her thumb over it.

"Suuuure he would."

"Lock the door."

"Mmm." He kissed the side of her face. "You are just full of suggestions."

"Yes I am." Carrie snaked her hand behind her and grabbed Dean's halfhard cock.

He jumped with a delighted gasp. "I have a suggestion of what to do when I'm feeling better." She said.

"Oh god." Dean's voice was rough. "I like that suggestion."

They soaked a while longer.

Dean was very gentle helping her out of the trough, wrapping a towel around her, kneeling down before her to help dry her off, all the while keeping his eyes locked suggestively with hers as he ran the towel up her damp leg. The dark look made her stomach flip.

She knew she couldn't do it though. She was still so sore. Why her body had decided to start cramping again was beyond her.

He gently edged her back until she was half sitting on the side of the trough and then pressed a kiss to the Inside of her leg.

She gasped and wound her hand in his hair. "Dean, I can't."

He kissed the inside of her thigh tenderly. "You sure?"

She felt his shortly cropped hair tickle her leg, moaned softly.

"Yeah." She panted. "I'm really not up for this."

"You can relax. I'll be gentle."

"Dean..." He gave her a chaste kiss on her thigh and stood up to wrap the towel around her again. "Okay. Come on, Sweetheart."

He scooped her up and carried her back into the cabin.

He laid her down on the mattress.

"Hey. Don't I get clothes?" She asked, stretching languidly.

"Nope," he said slyly. "No clothes policy in this bed. I told you."

"You're dressed."

He toed off his boots and settled in next to her. "Doesn't count for men."

"That seems sexist."

He gave her one of his smiles. The kind that made her heart swell with affection for him.

"I like sex. Sexist sounds like a word that should mean you like sex."

She laughed "Well... your logic is not really too sound with that argument."

He traced his fingers lightly over her bare collarbone. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Dean."

"Feels like I did." He kept running his fingers back and forth over her exposed flesh.

It felt exquisite.

"Can I touch you?" he asked.

"I said I'm not okay for sex." Carrie replied, a little defensively. She knew where his mind was going and the thought of it scared her when she was this raw.

"No, no sex baby, just touching all around."

She paused. She almost had to fight the urge to say what wanted to come out of her mouth: _You only like me for sex, don't you?_

"You're so gorgeous." He told her, undoing the tip of her towel and letting it spread out beneath her like a flowing cape. He leaned forward and gave her a long kiss. She tried to return it, still distracted by her own thoughts. He took her silence as hesitancy. "Relax baby." He said smoothly. "You know I'm not gonna hurt you."

He drew away, paused so that his face was very near to hers.

His eyes widened a little. "You do know that, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Do you feel safe with me?" He asked her soberly.

"What? Of course I do."

His expression was intent as he studied her and read the slight fear. It fell. "You don't, do you?" He wiped a hand over his face and blinked, swallowed. "Okay."

She reached for him. "Of course I trust you. You think I'd be asking you back time and again, letting you in my body if I didn't trust you?" Her hand halted his motion to pull away. "I'm just in pain this visit. Don't make me feel bad about not being able to."

Dean sat up and looked away from her. She could sense the tension in his body language and knew she'd said something wrong. God why was everything so tense this trip?

"M not trying to make you feel bad." He said a bit snappish. "You know what? Nevermind."

He started to get up and she grabbed his arm forcefully. "Stop it. Stop trying to leave everytime shit gets tense! You do this and then wonder why I feel pressured to have sex."

His mouth fell open. " _Pressured?_ I'm _pressuring_ you. I thought you wanted to sleep with me."

"I DO want to." Her grip was the only thing keeping him there. It was like a life preserver she'd snatched onto.

"Carrie," he said warningly. "Let me go."

She tugged his arm. "I want to but I feel like there's fucking knives in my vagina, Dean! It hurts, okay!" She sat up. "So yeah. Yes I'm afraid you're going to pressure me. I'm afraid that this is all you want me for."

He softened and turned to look at her, his eyes honest. "We _are_ fuck buddies, Carrie."

She welled up with tears and let him go. "I thought there was the buddies part to it too. Not just the fuck."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

Her heart actually hurt. She suppressed a sob. How he could be so caring one second and then such an asshole the next? "I want to hear that you care about me besides the sex..." she stood up, nude, and started to head for her pile of clothing.

Dean followed suit and approached her.

He took her wrist fiercely and she tried to pull away. "Of course I do."

He tightened his grip, almost bruising as she struggled to pull free.

She stilled and he relaxed it. They stood nose to nose, both of them breathing heavily. The tension between them palpable.

"I care about you. Don't fucking tell me I don't!"

Carrie looked away and it seemed to piss him off. He gave an annoyed snort.

She finally spoke. "You drove all the way up here and...and I feel pressured to make it fun for you." She bit her lip. "I WANT to make it fun but something made it so it hurts this time and now you're alone with me out here and I feel bad saying no. I can tell how badly you want it and..."

"Hey." He said, cutting her off. "Slow down. I didn't come up here to play Parcheesi. But I ain't gonna force you to do something that's hurting you." He looked at her soberly. "I just wanted to touch you. That's all."

She felt a little abashed. "I'm afraid..."

"That I'll cross the line and hurt you. I get it." His tone felt almost dismissive. He turned his back on her and reached to get a beer. His shoulders were set with a rigidity that belied his calm.

"Dean."

"I get it." He popped the cap off and took a swig.

Carrie could feel her cheeks coloring with frustration. "Apparently you don't."

He cocked an eyebrow and looked at her cooly. As if the observation was a challenge. "Enlighten me."

"You don't know what it's like..." Carrie started earnestly.

"To have a vagina, yeah. I get it."

"Shut up!" Carrie's mouth dropped open a little before she gathered her thoughts. She was sure he was reacting out of some misplaced feeling of self defense but that didn't give him the right to shit on her. "I... you know what? Forget it. You're being a jerk."

Surprise lit his face. " _I'm_ a jerk?" He squared his stance subconsciously. "Who just spent an hour drawing you a warm bath?" He ran a hand over his face. "I can't..." he turned his shoulder toward her. "This trying to convince you to trust me shit gets old."

She fought tears and went for her jeans on the floor. She struggled to put them on, hopping pathetically on one foot for a second.

Dean turned to watch her flailing. He seemed a little amused despite himself. "Balance a strong point for you, huh?"

She snorted wetly. "Yeah." She finally pulled them over her hips and winced as it hit an ache in her womb to button them. She wiped her arm across her face and when she looked up, Dean was watching her.

"Who hurt you?" He asked.

She paused. "What?"

"Who hurt you?" He cocked his head slightly, gave a small nod toward her with his chin.

She shook her head and went for her shirt.

She pulled it over her head. "I don't know what you mean..." Her heart sped up. She shifted a little bit.

"You're giving me a line of bullshit and I ain't buying." He suddenly seemed very intelligent. His gaze scrutinizing her response.

"I don't..." she paused.

"You're scared as a rabbit with me half the time. What happened to you?"

"Dean, if you were with someone who could hurt you...you'd be scared too."

"Not if I trusted them." He cocked an eyebrow. "I have given you zero reason to not trust me....I've..." he ran a hand over his shortly cropped hair. "I have been as gentle as I could possibly be."

She hugged herself. "I know you have. I never said you weren't."

"This isn't fair to me."

She blinked.

"I..." he let out a huff of breath. "I have told you shit that I have told no one else. I have been dead honest with you from the beginning, and you can't tell me anything about you? You can't tell me why you're scared of me?"

"Because sex can hurt, Dean!" She exploded back. "I like it but it hurts sometimes."

"I wasn't going to have sex with you just now! Why can't you trust me to touch you and stop when you ask?"

"Why do I have to let you?" She exploded back.

That stung him. She watched the hurt cross his expressive face. "Wow. Okay." He squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I..." he shook his head. "I don't even know what to say to that."

Carrie knew immediately that had been the wrong thing to say. "I don't mean it that way."

"The fuck you didn't." He responded. His voice a little hard. He muttered something to himself.

"I didn't. I...God, Dean. Can't you see it from my point of view at all?" Her eyes welled with tears again. She wiped them with her arm. She could sense Dean's palpable discomfort at them.

"I guess I don't know what the hell that even is, Carrie."

"I had resigned myself to life as a spinster and then this guy comes in and he's the most handsome thing I've ever seen."

Dean seemed a little abashed by the description, shifting uneasily. "I think 'I'll make out with him a little, no harm no foul, right?' But I open up to him about what's wrong with me. He listens to my problem and he doesn't care. He doesn't kick me to the curb like every other guy I've come in contact with. He doesn't force me. He's not pissed and frustrated like it's something I'm trying to do to him. He's patient and he's gentle..." she paused, swallowed the lump in her throat.

Dean's green eyes were intent on her.

"And he shows me I CAN do this! I can experience this and he shows me pleasure I didn't even know about. And then he's gone." She toed the edge of the mattress with her barefeet, looking down at her toes for a moment. "And then he comes back for me and... my mind is blown. He can have anybody and he picks my lame ass for a booty call."

He looked like he was about to say something but didn't.

"And then I realize that the reason why he picked me was because he's having his own sexual problems and I'm a soft place to fall."

She watched his reaction. Dean flushed a little, dropped his gaze and she knew she was right.

Carrie's eyes welled. "And you know what, Dean? I'm okay with that! I was fucking honored you picked me to help! I'm just happy that you're back in my life. I'll take you any way I can have you."

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose and shifted his weight uneasily.

"And then the sex is even fucking better. And I'm completely falling for this guy that I know I can't ever have. But it's okay. I'll take it on his terms." Carrie's voice caught on a sob, "and then it's great until he shows up too eager and it hurts again. But I want him to feel good so I don't say anything. And then it really hurts again. It hurts so bad." She wiped her eyes. "And he's mad at me and I'm afraid he's gonna leave me. I know what he's here for. We're not even in a relationship and I can't give him what he wants. I know it's all based on sex and I can't give that and he's gonna go." She started to cry. "And I can't tell him I love him. I want to so bad sometimes but it will scare him off... but I know he's leaving me anyway because my body doesn't work, so I might as well fucking say it!"

Her heart was pounding with the admission.

Dean had fallen very still.

Carrie knew it was over. Knew she'd blown it with him. "And I... I can't keep my feelings out of this! I can't NOT love you. It's intimate to me having you inside me. I'm sorry. I know you just want this to be a casual booty call and I think I'm fine with that but then I'm so fucking scared you won't see me anymore and..." she kicked impotently the mattress. "Goddammit! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."

She immediately regretted the movement as it sent a pain through her. She put her hand to her pelvis, her eyes streaming.

Dean stepped forward, hands out to catch her if she tripped. "Hey. Hey. Honey."

Carrie couldn't stop her tears. She covered her face and turned away. "I was five."

She heard the breath go out of him and Dean's arms were around her suddenly.

He squeezed her into him and stroked her hair. "Sweetheart. Shhhh. Stop."

She cried into his chest.

"Calm down." He soothed, his voice low and quiet. "Get your breath. Just get your breath."

She couldn't for a few moments.

"I shouldn't have come back again. I knew I was gonna hurt you."

She hit his chest half-heartedly. "Shut up."

He kissed the top of her head. "Shhh. Sweetheart. I'm here."

Carrie finally reined some of her emotion in. Realized belatedly what she'd told him. What she'd just started to admit to him that she hadn't quite remembered herself, even. "Dean..." she started to say.

He rocked her a little. "Hey. Shhh. You just dumped a boatload of crap. Give it a rest."

"I'm so scared." She choked.

And she was. Scared of what she'd just told him. Scared he was going to leave her. Scared no one would ever love her. Scared. Just scared.

"Nothing to be scared of. Deep breaths baby."

Carrie wasn't listening fully, lost in her own thoughts. He held her away from him and leaned down to lock gazes.

He cupped her face in his hands.

"Carrie. Listen to me." His voice was gentle but full of authority. "Look at me."

She brought her blue eyes up to meet his green ones, her lip trembling.

"Deep breath in." He said.

She made herself hitch an interrupted gasp.

"Good girl." He praised. "You let that out. Slowly."

She blew it out.

"Again." She breathed in and then out.

He wiped her tears with his thumb. "Okay, sweetheart."

He scooped her up and carried her over to the chair, set her on it. "You sit right here."

Dean grabbed himself a beer and popped the cap, drained half the bottle in a few chugs, then leaned over to rifle through his jacket. He pulled out a few pills and grabbed a water bottle.

"Here." He pushed one into her hand.

"Wh...what is this?"

"It's vicodin. It's gonna take down your pain and relax you a bit. Win win."

"Dean I don't want a..." Her body gave a protesting throb. She took it and swallowed it down.

"Good girl." He said softly. He pulled up another chair to sit across form her.

"What I just told..."

"We're not gonna talk about that right now." He said patiently. "We're gonna deal with what we got at this moment, okay? We get you calm. We get you where you're not hurting. Then we'll deal with the other crap."

She nodded and took another other sip of water. Could feel her lip trembling around the bottle.

"You settled?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Okay." He ushered her down into the mattresses and moved the pillows around her, pulled the covers over her.

Carrie watched him. He snuggled in beside her and pulled her into his arms. She had that exhausted feeling that came after too much emotion, but also she could start to feel the weird effect of the vicodin.

Her eyes felt strange. Everything was warm.

"My head is swimming."

Dean kissed her forehead. "You never been on pain pills?"

"No."

He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "They have a little kick to em sweetheart. Just go with it. Don't fight it."

"I don't like it." She slurred a little, blinked again. She'd never cared much for something that dulled her senses. But her vaginismus had stopped hurting.

Dean was gently running his hand over her arm and shushing her.

"You're good at this," she told him.

"At what?" He asked. "Illegal use of prescription drugs?"

"Taking care. You must have been so good with Sam."

He laughed. "Are you kidding? If Sam had told me his insides were hurtin' I'd have slapped him in the head and called him a pussy." She blinked knowing she found that amusing but not able to laugh. She was out before much longer.

* * *

 

She woke up later and her mind took a few minutes to realize where she was. Dean was lying drowsily next to her.

She swallowed, her throat dry. She wanted to get up to get a drink but she felt too weak.

He stirred. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," she replied. "You're still here."

"Course I am."

She rubbed her eyes. "Thought I'd have chased you away with my breakdown."

He rolled to face her. His green eyes were watching her soberly.

"You hurting?" He asked.

She moved and took stock of her body. "Not right now."

He seemed relieved. "You want some breakfast?"

She nodded.

He got up and went to the kitchen, opened the little icebox, got their stash of eggs and bacon. Carrie watched him for a couple of minutes and staggered up to relieve herself.

She felt hung over. Her head ached. Her eyes were puffy. She could only guess how alluring she must look right now.

She remembered the night before and had to suppress a panic attack. _How had she said all that to him?_ She couldn't believe he hadn't bolted already.

She must have been in the bathroom longer than she thought because there was a hesitant rap of knuckles on the door.

"You alive in there?"

"Yes." She said, emerging a few seconds later.

Dean stood awkwardly on the other side. "Got you some food and brewing some coffee on the pot bellied stove."

"Thank you." She padded out in her bare feet and sat down on the chair.

Dean gave her some greasy eggs and bacon. She picked at it disinterestedly.

He wolfed down his and was eyeing hers in a matter of minutes.

She snorted. "You eat like a horse."

"Hung like a horse too." He gave her a wink. "Me and horses have a lot in common."

She smiled. "Want to be ridden by lots of women."

"Yeah." He gave her his little mischievous grin. There was a twinkle to him when he was at his best. Something that had more to do with his spirit than his looks.

"Carrie I can't stick around much longer this trip. Gotta meet Sam."

She gave him her plate, suddenly not hungry in the least.

He scarfed it down while she sipped her coffee.

She could feel her teeth chatter.

Dean swallowed and noticed. "You cold?"

She shook her head. "Nerves."

"Nothin' to be nervous about."

"Yeah." She set the coffee down on the top of the old cast iron stove. "I dumped a lot of shit on you last night."

"Yeah." He said, squaring his shoulders up. "Bad night for you, sweetheart."

"Are we over now?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

His eyes met hers. "I knew I shouldn't have come back again. I was afraid of this. Never meant to lead you on."

"You didn't lead me on. I led myself on."

"I can't be what you need me to be."

She shook her head. "That's not true. You are what I need you to be. I just need Dean."

"Carrie, Dean's eyes were kind. I can't have you hangin on my return all the time. Ruining it with other people cause I'm never gonna be exclusive. I'm never gonna be material to settle down with."

Carrie tipped her head. "I don't wait around on your return, Dean. I have a life." She stepped forward and brushed her hand over his maroon shirt sleeve. "And I don't exactly have men lining up outside my door."

"You should." He said.

"I don't. No one else wants to deal with this... _you_ don't even want to deal with this."

Dean looked somewhere between offended and hurt. "That's not fair. I've been real patient."

"You have." She said. "I love you for it."

He looked a little thrown by her response, no doubt expecting a fight and ready for her to throw some instance of his impatience back at him. He opened his mouth and then let it close.

He turned his shoulder toward her a minute.

She looked at his expression. "So we're over?" Her heart twisted.

He turned his head and swallowed.

"It doesn't have to be." She said desperately. "If you enjoy coming here Dean, keep coming" Her voice caught as she thought about last night. _If_   he was envying coming here. Of course he fucking wasn't. Who would? "I know you're not enjoying this."

"Yeah." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

She tried not to break into tears. "You're the only man I would have chosen to do this with. I wouldn't..." she tried to steady her lower lip. "I wouldn't change anything ever about my time with you."

He looked up at her from under his long lashes, his mouth in a firm line.

She stepped forward, kissed his cheek and put her arms around his neck.

Dean closed his eyes against the affection and then turned his head into her and sought her mouth. He captured her and parted her lips with his tongue. His kiss was deep and fierce, almost claiming her. He held it until Carrie's knees felt weak.

He let her go and leaned his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily.

"I love you," she said.

Dean's breath stuttered. His forehead still leaning against hers.

"I wanna be inside you," he whispered.

Carrie's stomach twisted. "I... can't right now. I want you in me, Dean, but I can't."

"I know." He said. "Carrie."

"What?"

His mouth went to her ear lobe. His breath blowing across it sent goose bumps rising on her arms.

"This wasn't just a booty call." He said, his voice husky.

She pulled back to look at him.

He looked choked up. "Never was." He told her.

That did make her break down for a moment until she got herself back together.

"C'mere." He took her hand in his big warm one and tugged her to him.

"Don't end this." She begged. "Please."

He put his arm around her. "Baby. I gotta go. Working a case."

She rubbed her nose across her sleeve and sniffed, then clung to Dean's chest and his warm old spice and whiskey scent.

"I'm not done with this if you aren't." She told him.

He stiffened." I know sweetheart." He kissed her brow and stepped away. The light glinted off his bottom lip. "I'll text you."

Dean stepped out the cabin door and was gone.

Carrie watched her hopes follow him. They were as insubstantial as ghosts in the moonlight.


End file.
